


Desperate Times

by Pilesshipper13



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 21:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10772535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pilesshipper13/pseuds/Pilesshipper13
Summary: Hannibal goes ice fishing with Will.





	Desperate Times

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick fic I wrote based on a tumblr post (http://hanni-bunny-lecter.tumblr.com/post/143482666235/this-fandom-desperately-needs-more).

"What do you feel about ice fishing," Will asks, not looking up from where he's chopping vegetables for Hannibal. 

"I feel that it would be very cold," Hannibal replies, smiling softly, glancing at the other man and not pausing in making sausage.

Will smiles a little despite himself. "I mean, what do you feel about going ice fishing with me," he amends.

Hannibal does pause at that. "Truly? You would bring me fishing with you? The one hobby you find peace in, you offer to share with me?"

"Hannibal, we're friends," Will says, ostentatiously looking at Hannibal, but the psychiatrist knows that he's using his signature glasses trick. He's not offended.

"Still, this is a big step for you, Will," Hannibal says. 

"If you're going to psychoanalyze me the whole time, I rescind the offer."

"I am merely trying to impose on you the gravity of the situation. I would be honored to go ice fishing with you."

 

And so Hannibal Lecter steps daintily into Will's car early the next morning, bundled up in expensive, warm clothes.

Will drives them to a nearby frozen lake, getting out and gathering their gear. He steps confidently out onto the frozen surface, Hannibal trailing behind. The other man carefully examines the ice, testing it with soft presses of his foot before trusting it with his full weight. Will turns to see what the holdup is, and smiles a little. "The ice is thick," the experienced fisherman assures him. "It won't break unless we cut it."

Hannibal still takes his time, but he's closer to matching Will's pace than he was. "And if I do fall in," he asks Will.

"I'll pull you out," Will says, cutting two large holes in the ice. "And we'll take it from there."

Hannibal nods, accepting the rod Will hands him with a murmured thanks. He knows how to wrap lures, but he's actually never had occasion to use them. So he's utterly at a loss. Will seems to see that and comes close.

"Here," Will says. Hannibal wrinkles his nose at the bait, so Will rolls his eyes and does it for him. He steadies the rod, placing his hands above Hannibal's, and tells him to drop the line in. "You'll feel when you have a fish on."

The men settle down to wait.

Will catches three fish before Hannibal catches one. 

"See, you've got it now," Will nods when Hannibal pulls up a fish instead of refuse. 

Hannibal hums and delicately unhooks the fish, killing it humanely and laying it on the ice.

"So, how goes the search for the Chesapeake Ripper," Hannibal asks companionably.

"No," Will intones. "No talk about work while we're fishing."

"What shall we talk about, then?"

"I'm usually alone when i do this," Will admits. "Sometimes Jack comes along. He also wants to talk about work."

Hannibal smiles.

Will sighs. "I know nothing about you, Hannibal."

"I know only what you tell me about yourself, Will."

"Where did you grow up?"

"Lithuania," Hannibal replies immediately. 

"Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes. But I have candy from back home whenever I get particularly homesick. There's no reason for me to return, there's nothing for me there."

"No family," Will asks.

"I had a very small one. My parents died years ago, as did my only sister."

"Older?"

"Younger."

"I'm sorry."

"It was long ago."

The men fall silent; Will because he's uncomfortable, Hannibal because he's both letting the other stew in it and because he's remembering.

Both men catch a handful more fish before Will sighs.

"Well, this is more than enough fish, don't you think," Will asks.

 "I suppose," Hannibal replies. "I'd been finding myself rather enjoying it."

"Perhaps I'll take you on my next trip," Will remarks.

Hannibal is silent, knowing the other man doesn't require nor want a response. He reels in his line and leans down to pick up his fish when an idea sparks in his mind. He looks up and waits for Will to have his back to him, fussing with his own fish, before he takes a deep breath and steps into the water. It's far colder than he expected, and he unintentionally gasps, inhaling some water.

"Hannibal!" Will sounds concerned, already there at the edge. He pulls the man out, tossing the fish into the cooler and bracing the man's arm against his shoulders, leading him back to the car. He presses the shivering man into the passenger seat, batting away his hands when he reaches for the heater, grabbing some towels and blankets and wrapping him in them. He puts the gear in the back, gets into the driver's seat, and drives to the nearest motel.

"I need a room," Will says without preamble when he walks into the lobby.

"One bed or two," the clerk says.

"One. He fell into the water."

That makes the clerk hurry. Will is soon handed a key and waved in the direction of the room, and Will brings Hannibal to the right door.

"Take off your clothes," Will orders once he closes the door. He takes off his glasses and shrugs his jacket off.

"P-pardon," Hannibal chatters, even as he obeys.

"Your clothes are soaked, take them off. We'll dry them later. We just have to ensure that you don't get hypothermia. The easiest and best way to do that is body heat," Will explains, comedically hopping around on one foot, trying to get his shoe off, before he remembers that sitting on the foot of the bed is an option. Hannibal is soon wearing only boxers, and he glances down at them, unsure whether to remove those, as well. Will seems to hear his unspoken question. "Are they wet?"

"Yes, but not as much as my other clothes."

"Off," Will blushes.

Hannibal nods, hooking his fingers into his waistband and pushing them off his hips.

"Bed," Will says, still working on his pants.

Hannibal lays on his side in the bed, still shivering violently, and soon enough there's a line of heat at his back, and he greedily presses against it. Will wraps an arm around him, reaching down and pulling the comforter up and over them completely, enshrouding them in darkness. Hannibal turns in his arms, pressing his hands against Will's chest. He can't see Will, but he can feel his heartbeat against his palms and the movement of his breathing.

"Jesus," Will hisses. "Your hands are like ice."

Hannibal hums in assent, ducking his head and laying his cheek against the warm curve of the other man's neck.

"Hannibal?"

"Yes," Hannibal asks, reveling in the warmth and closeness.

"Keep talking to me, I have to know you haven't passed out."

"What shall I talk about?"

"How old are you?"

"Fifty. And you?"

"Forty. Will you tell me about your sister?"

Hannibal's hands tighten against Will's shoulders.

"I take that as a 'no,'" Will huffs a laugh, stirring Hannibal's hair. 

Hannibal produces an exaggerated shiver and presses his legs closer to Will's, slightly disappointed that the other man is still wearing his underwear.

"Feeling better," Will asks, rubbing Hannibal's back to get the blood flowing.

"Yes, thank you," Hannibal nods. He can feel his fingers again and his ears aren't as cold.

Hannibal shifts his weight, ears hungrily devouring the tiny hitch of Will's breath and the stir against his thigh. Hannibal revels in the fact that their breath has warmed the small space and their heartbeats have synced. It's as if his heart has been transplanted with Will's, and he now carries the younger man's heart within his breast. He presses his cold nose to the warmth behind Will's ear, fighting a smile at his breathless chuckle.

Will seems to sense the very instant Hannibal's toes warm, far too soon for Hannibal's liking, because he leans back and runs a clinical hand down Hannibal's leg.

"There. Out of the woods," Will says, relieved. He rolls out of bed and promptly tucking Hannibal in, smiling at the fact that the man's head is sticking comically out of the cocoon of blankets. "I'll go properly sign us in and get you some tea," he says, slipping his jeans up his legs. "You lie there and warm up," he says, turning his back to Hannibal and pulling on his shirt. 

"Well, if that's what Dr. Graham says," Hannibal says, snuggling down into the blankets and the residual warmth from Will's body. The moment Will leaves the room, Hannibal turns his head and inhales shivering at the woodsy scent for an entirely different reason than the cold.


End file.
